Perfectly UnPerfect
by psudani
Summary: Post-Memorial Day fic set five months after gaza. This is JD but not really romance. More like a few hours in the life of a couple. Story is COMPLETE.


Category: J/D  
Spoiler Info: story current through Memorial Day  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Never did, never will. Hey, I am still hoping to someday inherit China Beach.  
Archiving permission: Please ask first. I could use the ego boost.

Note: I wrote this a few months ago and decided to post it here. Hope you like it. I would like to add a special thank you to Jennifer for reading this first, editing, and encouraging me to continue.

Josh walked out of the shower and into the bedroom to find his tux hanging by a hook on the door and all its little accoutrements laid out perfectly on the bed. Even his shoes were freshly shined. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he picked up the pair of silk boxers with little coffee cups and bagels on them.  
  
"I thought you deserved the finest bagels in all the land," said a seductive voice from the entrance of the bedroom. Donna leaned against the bedroom door, still in her robe, her hair in a French twist with a few ringlets falling on each side of her face and her makeup perfect, while she contently watched Josh get dressed. She could watch him, mesmerized, for hours – just the way his lean body and muscles moved when he was performing the simplest of actions was enough to make her whole body tingle with anticipation.  
  
"You know, Donna, a good lawyer could argue that you just brought me coffee." Josh smirked.  
  
Donna crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well there aren't any good lawyers here. Are there, Joshua?"  
  
"Touché...So, do you really want to go tonight? If you aren't ready, we can wait. I am sure we can find something to occupy our time."  
  
"Josh, I have missed the last five months of balls and state dinners. I can walk. I go hours without a nap. I can even dress myself – unlike other people I know. I want to go tonight. I want to mindlessly chat with people I could care less about, proceed to mock them with our friends, eat foods you can't pronounce, and then I want to dance with you in your perfectly pressed tux and polished shoes. This is important to me."  
  
Josh could see in her eyes she was preparing for battle. He decided to drop it. "Well, since I am already dressed. Speaking of, don't you think maybe you should consider doing the same? I personally love the robe and all, but I don't think the Ambassador to France would appreciate its finer points. Actually, I think he would. Please tell me your dress begins at your chin and ends the way those footed pajamas do."  
  
Donna wickedly laughed and walked over to him to tie his tie. "Well, Mr. Lyman, I guess you are going to have to patiently wait in the living room while I get dressed so you can have the answer to that."  
  
"I don't think that is very fair, Ms. Moss. You just stood here and watched me get dressed. Shouldn't I get the same reward? You did say I deserved the finest bagels in all the land. That would imply I have been a good boy."  
  
"Josh, I watched you get dressed to make sure you actually buttoned the right buttons and..."  
  
"One time, Donna, one time!" Josh's voice had raised at least two octaves. "We had been campaigning for twelve days straight and we were in our fortieth city..."  
  
"Josh, would you be quiet and let me finish. What I was going to say was because you have been a very good boy these last few months; I will give you the option of which reward you want. You can either watch me get dressed now, or you can watch me get undressed later. Your choice, Joshua, I would choose wisely."  
  
"Can I choose option number three?"  
  
"And what, may I ask, would that be?"  
  
"For you to watch me undress you later, or, you know now would be good."  
  
Donna tilted her head forward so she was almost touching Josh's face with hers; her fingers still on his tie. She then seductively whispered in his ear. "Yes Joshua, now would be a good time..." She then pulled his tie tighter and continued in a much louder tone. "...for you to get into the living room."  
  
Josh made, what could only be described as a grunt, and sulked off to the living room. From the hallway he yelled, "I can't believe you are going to make me wait out here! Footed pajamas, Donnatella, I want to see footed pajamas!"  
.........................................................  
  
Donna made her way to the closet and pulled out the garment bag. She then laid it on the bed and walked back to the closet to get her shoes. When she bent down to pick them up, she felt the pain shoot through her leg and then her body. She knew she would feel it. She always did. She just hoped tonight would be different. She was determined to get though the night without additional medication, or her time outs as Toby would call them. Yes, Toby Ziegler.  
  
When Donna officially came back to work about a month ago, she would get tired pretty quickly. She didn't really want other people to know this bit of information because they would give her that look. She hated that look. One day, after a very long meeting with some very boring people, Donna was walking back to her office when Toby came up from behind her. Just as she was about to turn the corner, she faltered a bit and almost fell. Toby quietly reached out and took her arm in his. He didn't let go when they began to walk again. He then asked her if she would like a time out.

She imagined her expression to the term "time out" looked something like Wile E. Coyote as he realizes he had just walked off the cliff. He gave her a curious look and then in a flash realized what he had asked her. With a rare smile, he then told her he was reading one of those parenting books and had just come to the chapter about The Importance of Time Outs. By this point he had led her to his office and motioned for her have a seat on the couch. She sat there for a few awkward moments then attempted to get up and go back to work. Toby repeated the motion for her to sit and told her that his office was a good place for "time outs" and she was always welcome there. He then offered her a deal. He promised her not tell anyone about her occasional need for "time outs," and she had to promise not to tell anyone he was reading parenting books. In the past few weeks, usually after most people scattered for the day, Donna would slip into Toby's office and lay on his couch while she waited for Josh to finish whatever he had to do. Toby would work and she would read or finish some notes. They didn't really talk that much or need to and no one dared interrupt Toby when his door was closed. She had come to take great comfort in her "time outs" and, oddly, she thought Toby did as well.  
  
Donna finished getting dressed with only minimal discomfort and stepped into her heels. In the back of her mind she knew a whole night of high heels would be excruciating for her, but she put that aside as she was determined for this night to be perfect and flats did not go with her image of the perfect outfit. If she could just find a way to lean against things for most of the evening, she could still get her dance with Josh.  
.......................................................  
  
"Donna, we are going to be late!" Josh bellowed from the living room. "Do you need me to come in there and help you? I believe I could be very handy when it comes to helping a beautiful woman with her..."  
  
Josh suddenly lost his train of thought. Every sense he had was overwhelmed by the image in front of him. The sound of her heels clicking on the hardwood floors when she walked down the hallway, the shiver that ran down his spine, the way his month suddenly went dry, the smell of her delicate perfume as she entered the room, and the sight...he could go on for hours about the sight. She was wearing red. No, red didn't describe that color enough. It was scarlet and had a translucence to it that shimmered in the evening light. The fabric hugged her body in ways he dreamt his own body would and the slit up the side of her left leg was low enough to be classy and high enough to keep a man's imagination tormented and euphoric for  
hours, maybe even days. This woman who appeared in front of him was nothing short of a goddess. His ego wanted to claim her as his own, but his heart knew she did not belong to him. A man would never be permitted to possess such beauty and grace. This was a woman for him to admire, to cherish, and for which to strive to be a better man.  
  
"Now, did I not tell you that I expected footed pajamas from you," he smirked. "The Ambassador to France may get an idea or two. We are trying to maintain our peaceful relations with the country, Donnatella. Having the Deputy Chief of Staff beat up their ambassador because he can't keep his eyes off of the newly appointed Senior Policy Advisor to the Deputy Chief of Staff may have a negative effect on said relations."  
  
Donna seemingly floated past Josh with a smile and commented, "That was quite a mouthful there, Joshua. I think our next special project should be shorter titles for White House staff. The money we would save on the ink for business cards alone would be worth it. Now, shall we go work on French relations?" She said "French relations" in a low, sultry voice that made the hair on the back of Josh's neck stand and take notice.  
  
"French relations...Donna, do you know how many comments just flew through my mind – not to mention the images."  
  
Donna chuckled as Josh placed his hand on the small of her back and they walked out of the apartment - both thinking about the possibilities of the night.  
...............................................................  
  
Josh escorted Donna into Entrance Hall. Usually protocol would dictate they did not go through the receiving line, but tonight they were invited as guests of the President and First Lady and not employees. Donna was surprised by the number of people that recognized her. Some even greeted her before Josh. She knew why they recognized her, and she saw "The Look" a few times. When was "The Look" going to stop? It had been five months.  
  
The media, however, was still reliving the story because of the drawn-out, attempted peace negations, and she knew her face still made the news at least once a week. The Gaza Explosion. That's what they called it. Donna often wondered how the press named the events that passed through American life. Maybe some guy got paid to sit in a room with a thesaurus and string words together until they sounded intimidating. The War on Drugs...Desert Storm...Shock and Awe Donna had to admit, she kind of liked Shock and Awe. If you said it fast enough it sounded like a small fishing island off the coast of the Atlantic.  
  
"Good evening, Mr. President."  
  
"Donna, I must say, you look rather striking this evening. I see you even managed to clean up my deputy. You know, you're not his assistant anymore; you don't need to make sure his tie is straight. But, maybe you have other reasons to do that now?" The President proudly smiled at his own inference and was lightly swatted by the First Lady who picked up on his remarks.

"Ow...Good evening, Josh."  
  
"Good evening, Mr. President. Good evening, ma'am."  
  
"Donna, dear, don't let my husband make you squirm. A good swat always puts him back in his place."  
  
"Ma'am, I am sure it does. However, being tackled by the Secret Service was not part of my plan this evening."  
  
"No, I guess not. Well, I will give him an extra swat on your behalf. The Secret Service rarely tackles me to the ground. You two have a good evening."  
  
"Thank you, ma'am, good evening to both of you as well."  
...........................................................  
  
Josh and Donna slowly made their way into Cross Hall. The magnificence of the evening was truly breathtaking. The champagne flowed generously, the wait staff danced through the crowd carrying foods that resembled works of art. The crystal chandeliers sparkled and the diamond pattern that ran along the freshly waxed floor shined. It was an evening designed for grandeur and dance.  
  
Donna took a moment to take in her surroundings as Josh spoke with a junior Senator about important matters, you know, the Mets. She had obviously been to these events before, but tonight felt different. It felt as if she finally belonged. She closed her eyes briefly and the music that played through the Hall became more distinct. It was Debussy - Clair de lune from Suite Bergamasgue. She recognized it from one of her French classes. She remembered reading once that Claude Debussy was known for using subtlety in his music. Never really conveying outright the emotions he wanted to share. Donna turned to Josh and serenely smiled. He was laughing at a joke the Senator thought would be funny while he softly drew small circles with his finger on the exposed skin near the small of her back. Yes, she understood the brilliance of Debussy. They both did.  
.........................................................  
  
The evening progressed with variations to her original plan. It seemed more people were intrigued by the combination of Josh and Donna than either had imagined. Both were pulled into countless discussions regarding everything from healthcare reform to the origin of the French Fry. The President had encouraged the last topic and Donna was the only one in the circle to know the answer – a circle which included the French Ambassador. Josh actually growled a little when the ambassador harmlessly kissed Donna on the cheek for knowing such facts about his country. Josh would have actually pummeled him had he heard what the ambassador had said to Donna, in French, after he kissed her. The words déesse and peau were used, in a rather flattering way, although it is doubtful Josh would have agreed.  
  
An hour later, Josh was in Entrance Hall discussing welfare legislation with a lobbyist he couldn't quite remember the name of, and Donna had been cornered in Cross Hall by the Synthetic Sisterhood, as CJ referred to them. To actually include the word sisterhood in their description was too high a compliment. Synthetic seemed about right though. They were four wives of senior Senators and had been linked by their artificially tanned hips since the dawn of time. Well, she guessed it was the dawn of time. Really, how do you approximate the age of silicon? These women live by a code and it was simple - there was not a limit to the amount of plastic surgery one human being could endure and you only cancelled your Botox  
appointment if new D.C. gossip was to be spread. Donna inwardly prayed for Josh, another member of Senior Staff, or the 82nd Airborne to rescue her as the questions flew. The speed in which they flew made her wonder if the Synthetic Sisterhood had a little more than  
champagne that evening.  
  
"So Donna, I hear Barbara Walters wants to interview you."  
"Are you and Josh still living together?"  
"I imagine they would be, they have been dating for years."  
"Years! Really?"  
"Oh, come on, you don't think these two just became a couple do you?"  
"But remember that Gardner woman Josh dated. Donna, what was her first name?"  
"Amy, and Josh and I really did just start..."  
"How are you feeling these days, Donna?"  
"I am doing well, thank..."  
"Really, you are on you feet a lot quicker than I would be."  
"I would have made Edward serve me for a year had I ended up the way you did."  
"Well, I have excellent physical therep..."  
"I wouldn't have gone over to that despicable place. You know that women have to cover their hair."  
"What kind of civilized society does that?"  
"It is a sign of respect to participate in the customs of other..."  
"Did Josh convince you to go over there?"  
"What? No. It was part of my..."  
"Such a tragedy what happened."  
"Yes, Paul and DiSantos played golf together. Now he has to find a new partner."  
Please, God, is it really that difficult for the 82nd Airborne to come in and grab me?  
"Ladies, I am sure Donna here doesn't want to talk about this."  
What? One of the sisters has an actual conscious? She must be newer to the group.  
"If she is going to talk to Barbara Walter's she should be prepared for these kinds of question."  
"I'm not going to talk to..."  
"Tell us, what is it like to be the only survivor among all those important men? Do you wonder why you got to live?"  
  
The firing squad of questions halted after that one. Donna felt every muscle in her body tense. She could actually feel her pupils dilate and she had this metallic taste climbing the back of her throat – like the rod in her leg was invading the rest of her body. Donna thought she was just about to either pass out or hit one of them, when Toby suddenly appeared at her side.  
  
"Donna, do you know when we scheduled that thing about the thing?"  
  
Donna tried to snap out of her haze. "Huh, I don't know which thing..."  
  
"I know you are enjoying this evening, but I think it is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Do you mind if I steal you away for a moment to finish up a few things for the...uh, thing? Ladies, I am sorry for the interruption."  
  
"Toby, how are things with you and Andi these days? I heard you two have gotten closer since The Gaza Expl..."  
  
"Oh, that thing! Yes, Toby, we should go talk about the thing. If you will excuse us; have a good evening."

Toby escorted Donna to the other side of the room. It didn't take a keen observer to notice Donna was caught in a fog. Toby hadn't seen her skin this pale since the first time he visited her in the hospital and her breathing was a bit shallow. She had momentarily come out of the proverbial "Hole" to make sure her friend didn't have to come join her, but she quickly climbed back in. Toby had heard the last few questions that assaulted her. It took everything he ha d not to lash out at the Silicon Trophy Wives. Toby knew of very few people in the world that he considered the real thing. He protected those individuals with his life. After Rosslyn, Toby believed Donna was one of them. That belief was reinforced when he witnessed her reaction to finding out about the President's MS. He could not stand by and let a bunch of Barbie clones destroy her.  
  
"Donna, do you want something to drink?" Toby walked Donna to the bar. "Waiter, can I get a glass of water please."  
  
"Here, drink this."  
  
Donna did as she was told. The liquid could have been tequila, she wouldn't have noticed. She did however manage to change her outer demeanor enough so she didn't garner more attention than she was already receiving that evening.  
  
"Thanks, Toby." Donna smiled weakly. "Once again, you are there to catch me before I fall."  
  
Before Toby could say anything, Josh came up from behind Donna and wrapped his arm around her waist. He gave her a huge, dimpled grin and commented on how great the night was going. Right before Donna could return his smile, he noticed a slightly vacant expression on her face.  
  
"Donna, are you alright? Toby, is Donna alright?"  
  
"I am fine, Josh. Just a little tired. I forgot I would be standing the whole night."  
  
"Why don't we find you a seat somewhere?"  
  
"No. I think I am going to take a walk outside. Fill my lungs with some fresh air."  
  
"Donna, it is like forty degrees out there. That is a little too fresh. What are you not you telling me?"  
  
"Josh, I'm fine – really. I'll be back in a minute."  
  
"I'll come with you."  
  
"No, stay here and distract Toby. He is giving a few Senators' wives the evil eye and I think he may cause a scene."  
  
Donna calmly walked through Entrance Hall successfully avoiding all those who tried to pull her into conversations. With each step she took, a shot of pain ran through her. Halfway through, she turned back and smiled at Josh. He was watching her maneuver through the crowd, as she knew he would. When he saw her pass through the doors to the nearby patio he turned back to Toby.  
  
"Toby, what the hell just happened? She looked as if someone just sucker punched her. Did someone say something? Was it about us? I thought people were happy we got together?" Josh had the look of a caged animal. His fists were clenched and you could actually feel the heat radiating from him.  
  
Toby didn't know if he should tell Josh what had happened. If his first instinct was to strangle those women, then he couldn't even imagine what Josh's would be. He also learned the hard way that you can't push the woman you love into having the conversations they were not ready to have.  
  
"Calm down, Josh. Donna has been the center of attention recently and she is not used to it. If she says she is just tired, then that is probably what it is. People really are happy you two finally came to your senses."  
  
"You're right. Donna just wanted this night to be perfect. I think she had this idea of how the night would go and it isn't turning out that way. She talked all week about wanting to dance the final dance of the night with me. I don't think she is going to be up for it now. I shouldn't have left her side."  
  
Toby grimaced. Giving romance advice ranked right up there with clapping at one of Bob Russell's speeches. He took a deep breath and proceeded anyway. "Do you really think tonight was about a dance? I'm sure even you understand symbolism, Josh."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Dancing is something you do when you are happy and healthy. Donna wants to prove to her and all these people that she's both. Look how determined she was to get rid of those crutches. It has been five months, Josh. They still show it on the news. I know you understand this."  
  
He did. He understood it all too well, and he would give anything for Donna not to have to go through that turmoil. He asked his friend with trepidation, "You think she has PTSD?"  
  
"No, I don't. I saw the way Donna reacted to what happened to you. I think she would seek help before she let it get that far. I do, however, think she's trying to hard to be everything to everybody as usual."  
  
"Donna does see a counselor. I don't think she would mind if you knew that. I know you two share a thing. Maybe coming here tonight was a mistake. Maybe it was too soon"  
  
"It wasn't a mistake, Josh. Do you really think the evening would have gone differently a month from now? D.C. loves drama – especially when it is wrapped in a beautiful blond package. Just remind Donna that she doesn't have to cross off every item on her perfect" list in one night. You two are going to have a lifetime of nights."  
  
"Thanks, Toby. I suddenly need some fresh air myself."  
  
"Wait here a few minutes. I just saw the First Lady follow Donna out to the patio."  
........................................................  
  
Abbey Bartlet waited a few moments before following Donna outside. She was very familiar with the expression the young woman carried. It was "I need to get out of here before the walls close in around me', hidden behind I am the carefree, graceful wife of a politician'" Abbey was impressed – she hadn't perfected that one until a few years ago. Donna always did seem to catch on quickly. The secret serviceman silently opened the door and Abbey walked into the night. She saw Donna before Donna could see her. She was sitting on a stone bench that was located outside the direct view of the party. Donna's head was bent down and she was absentmindedly tracing where Abbey imagined her scar ended near her right knee. Abbey  
could hear her trying to level out her breathing.  
  
"O Canada! Our home and native land. True patriot love in all thy sons..." Abbey sang in a low voice.  
  
Donna's head jerked up. "Dr. Bartlet! Ma'am, I didn't realize you were out here." As she spoke she quickly attempted to stand, but the instant weight on her leg caused her to almost lost her balance. Dr. Bartlet took Donna's hand to steady her.  
  
"You know, Donna, sometimes I hate protocol. I come out here to visit a friend and she almost falls over greeting me. That doesn't seem right."  
  
Donna smiled a genuine smile. "Maybe I was standing for my national anthem, ma'am."  
  
Abbey gave a quick, deep laugh. "Would you mind if I joined you out here for a moment? The hot air that fills these parties can make the cool October air feel very inviting."  
  
"Of course I wouldn't mind. Ma'am, if you would like to be alone, I can..."  
  
"Nonsense, I followed you out here remember."  
  
Donna and the First Lady both took a seat on the bench. After a brief moment of silence, Abby decide to jump right into the conversation she'd had many times in her life with too many tormented souls.  
  
"Josh and you seemed to be having a good evening. That is until the Fake Foursome began their verbal assault."  
  
"You saw that, ma'am? I didn't realize you were so near."  
  
"I also heard some of it. I wanted to swoop in and rescue you, but one of their husbands had me cornered. Something about my medical license...I stopped listening to him halfway through. I was more than relieved when I saw Toby at your side. I think he handled that better than I would have and certainly better than Josh. I am going to have to make sure my husband lets him near the good scotch soon."  
  
"You are not a fan of Synthetic Sisterhood, or Fake Foursome, as you called them?"  
  
"Donna, please, those women make me feel sorry for the animal fat that is injected into them. Wonder if they get a group discount from their surgeon?" Abbey laughed at her own sarcasm.  
  
"I'm sorry you had to hear that, ma'am. You don't need to worry about me. I'm fine. If you need to get back inside..."  
  
"First, quit trying to get rid of me..."  
  
"Ma'am, I am sorry, I didn't mean it that..."  
  
"Donna, stop apologizing. I'm out here because I want to be. Like I said earlier, I'm here visiting a friend. I have heard that friends can even call each other be their first names, although you do have that ma'am thing down pat. Was your father ever a drill sergeant?"

"Actually he was a Corporal. He enlisted in the Marine Corps right after my parents were married. He served three consecutive tours in Vietnam with only minor injury. He's an engineer now...doesn't really talk abut what happened over there. He doesn't believe in crying over history."  
  
"Sometimes crying is the only way to put it passed you."  
  
Abbey looked directly into Donna's eyes; she had seen that kind of anguish before. It was in the eyes of a survivor. They searched for some kind of reasoning. They waited for someone to explain to them why they were given a second chance, while so many others were not.  
  
Donna turned away and felt the cold air of the night for the first time.  
  
"Ma'am...Abbey, those women, they asked me...they asked me a question I've been asking myself for months. I had just never heard it asked out loud before."  
  
"You think there is an answer to that question, Donna? You think that there is a rhyme or reason to life? A bullet flies through the air and into a crowd. One person gets hit, why that person and not someone else? Did they deserve it more? Life is random, you know that."  
  
"Wow, you don't pull any punches, do you?"  
  
"I don't enjoy watching my family beat themselves up over things they cannot control. I choose to swat Jed when he gets this melancholy. I didn't think you would appreciate that as much."  
  
"I don't think the President does either." Donna said with a half-smile. She then shifted on the bench and glanced into the window. She saw people laughing and drinking champagne. When I was in the hospital, I had this dream. I was wearing a beautiful red dress and Josh was in his tux – not one wrinkle in it; his bowtie was even perfect. We were in Cross Hall and the orchestra was playing Fauré. We danced around the room and everyone was in awe at the possibility of two people being so much in love. This night was going to be perfect. I thought I could have that. I wanted to have that. I wanted that perfect dance. Now, I just want to be able to walk out of here without falling or crying."  
  
Abbey stood up and put her hand out to help Donna stand as well. The older woman silently led the younger back through Entrance Hall and into Cross Hall. She stood in front of one of the pillars so Donna could inconspicuously lean against it.  
  
"Donna, look around you. Most of these people will hate you or love you no matter what you do to them. You can't change that, so don't even try. A few of them may attempt to actually get to know you and not your reputation, and even fewer will become trusted friends. This party...the grandeur of it...it isn't real. Most of it is just widow dressing, don't live for these people, Donna. You have to find your own way. Now, look over to your right."  
  
Donna did as she was asked, and immediately noticed warm brown eyes staring back at her. She could see the love in them as he began to walk towards her from across the room. She could see shared whispers in the night, her children's birthday parties, and dinners with friends. She could see the future she had lived for. As he got closer, she noticed his tuxedo had become a bit rumpled, and his tie was no longer straight. She couldn't imagine a man more handsome.  
  
"Donna, I've watched you and Josh dance for years. I can assure you that there is at least one person in this room very much in awe of watching two people so in love."  
  
"Our dance was inspired by watching the best, ma'am." She then added barely above a whisper, "Thank you, Abbey."  
  
With that the First Lady smiled, gave Donna's hand a final squeeze, and walked away to make sure her husband hadn't ruined French relations, again. Donna turned back to see Josh in front of her. She smiled in a way that let him know she was at ease and the fog had lifted. He returned her smile and placed his hands on her hips.  
  
"You and Mrs. Bartlet were outside for a quite a while. Toby and I were concerned you may have been plotting to take over the West Wing. You weren't, were you?"  
  
"Not today...just discussing the fine art of dancing."  
  
"Would you care to dance? I know the music has stopped, but maybe we can find our own rhythm."  
  
"We already have, Joshua. Actually, I think I'd rather go home, find some footed pajamas, and call it a night."  
  
"I am sorry we didn't get to dance. I promise we will next time. I won't leave your side all night. We will make it perfect."  
  
"Don't worry about the dance, Josh. I don't need it to know what I have." Donna reached over to straighten Josh's tie, and then stopped herself. "We don't need to be perfect. I kind of like us perfectly un-perfect."  
..................................................  
  
Donna and Josh contently walked out of the White House.  
  
I love you, Donnatella," he said quietly.  
  
"I know," she replied with a knowing smile.  
  
"You do? How do you know?" he asked.  
  
"The same way that you know that I love you," she stated matter-of-factly.  
  
"I do know that," he replied softly  
  
"I know."  
  
"Well then I guess it's just perfect," Josh proclaimed.  
  
"Ahh – ahhh... it's perfectly un-perfect," she corrected.  
  
"Donna?"  
  
"Yes, Josh."  
  
"Do I still get my reward? You know option number three," he said smirking and raising his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
Donna swatted his arm as they laughed together and continued their dance into the night.  
  
Finito  
  
(Feedback, much like voting, chocolate, and vacation days, is encouraged.)


End file.
